


I'm Falling Apart

by sweetlittlemissme



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Coping, F/F, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Survivor Guilt, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 01:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4244046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlittlemissme/pseuds/sweetlittlemissme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chorus has become a living hell and all its citizens will attest to that. </p>
<p>Emily Grey is just one of those citizens that has to deal with the lasting effects that the conflict has had on her home and herself. </p>
<p>But how can she fix her home when she's losing herself in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Falling Apart

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Toadflame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toadflame/pseuds/Toadflame) in the [RvB_Fic_War](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/RvB_Fic_War) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> You've been thrown together with no regard to who you are...so you best get to figuring out how you're gonna get along!
> 
> What? No, I'm not going to help you do that. What do you take me for, a counselor? This is a war!
> 
> **Prompt:** Write a fic about a character who has gone through or is going through a difficult experience, or maybe one that's _very_ trying.

It was a while before anyone noticed and that included herself. The miserable nature of the conflict they were in meant no one was ever happy, the lack of her bubbly attitude was not considered strange at all. It was considered in fact the norm. 

Then she began requesting that she no longer be a field medic but rather take up the position of doctor within the base. That was not an odd request they had lost a few doctors in recent attacks on their bases and were happy to get as many doctors as they could to help. No one ever questioned her reasoning for it. 

She was afraid. 

The blood on the ground, her friends face down on the ground bleeding out, limbs missing,the loud sounds of explosions and bullets. Were the things she could never remove from her mind, they flashed in front of eyes as she tried to sleep. 

They awoke her in the early morning with a shout, leaving her sitting up in her cot with sweat pouring down her neck, shoulders shaking and out of breath. She wasn't fighter, she was a survivor. 

She lived through the initial attacks on the capital. Her family was hardly so lucky. A common sight in her nightmares was the corpses of her parents in their work office, she had run their straight from class to see if they had been spared. But they weren't. 

The rebels argued that they were part of the military but doctors help anyone who needs it. Her parents wouldn't let anyone suffer regardless of their political preference. But they were killed because of who they stood by. 

She doubted that the rebels could ever justify that death. 

The next day came and she went to class in an effort to hold herself together. Midway through the lecture the power was cut, the room was pitch black. There was a muffled sound from the lecture room next door, she learnt later after they had exited the building that it had been the sound of semi-automatic weaponry. 

The lecture was about ethics, attended mostly by the students getting degree's on the military's dime to work for them. 

Day by day passed and Grey lost more and more of those close to her, she didn't have much choice when it came to joining the Federal Army of Chorus. There was nothing left for her, it was gone. Taken by a fight over how best to rule their little planet. 

In a way she could sympathize her story was not uncommon, on either side. 

The after she left her apartment complex was destroyed by a 'stray' missile. It had nothing to do with the fact that many of the residents were moving out to join the army. 

She was issued with purple striped medic armor and a light weight gun after dumping her stuff in her bunk. Before being sent off to training where she finally found something she couldn't do easily, this required effort. But she was fast and skilled at getting to where she was needed and back out again, her shot wasn't perfect at range however if she was treating a patient and some crept up on her they were probably dead. 

Her commanding officers were fine with her skill, or lack there of. They needed medics the death count might be lower than the rebels one but they received more injuries. 

Grey's first day on the field was horrible. They were ambushed and as she rushed from injured, to injured to dead to injured, she received a blow to the head. 

She awoke with a dull throbbing pain in her head and a heavy weight on top of her, there was shouting and someone standing in front of her. There were hands dragging her forwards and realizing her from the crushing of the rest of her squad. 

The rebels had dragged the 'bodies' aside to hide from future patrols. Her groans had alerted the others to the location. She was lucky, again she had been save when so many others died. 

There were better and more successful days but there were plenty of days just as bad or worse. They became stuck in her mind, the bright light within the young woman was withering up and losing it's glow fast. 

She was afraid to talk to people, afraid to loss them, afraid to be left alone. 

Staying inside bases meant she needed to interact with more people, and one of those was Donald Doyle. The secretary to the Brigadier General was a nice enough man, he showed her around the new base and assisted her in settling in. She didn't want to like his company but as things got worse she needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to help keep her steady, a family to keep her sane. 

Doyle had lost his wife and young daughter early on, Grey could never replace the either of them but she like himself needed a family. Someone to look out for her at least and he needed to feel more useful in this war than a secretary. 

She had someone to hold her when she needed it and in a way the light grew a bit stronger. She was nothing like the person she once was. 

But she wanted to be happy again, she wanted to feel like herself not dull colorless version of the person she could have, should have been. 

It was hard to pin point when it started but she decided that if she couldn't make it come naturally she'd force herself to be her old happy and energetic self. No matter what it took. 

People were shocked when they saw her smiling, when she laughed and took an unnatural joy in injuries. They became scared of her. In a way they feared her, and she feared herself. 

How could she feel so much pleasure in the pain of others. Was it because it gave her a challenge? Or was something worse happening?

It was already a struggle to understand why she was still alive when so many others were dead, when more skilled people had died in the place of a medic on the battlefield. The thoughts swallowed her up, it made her sick. That feeling never left, she began eating less and putting all her energy into medicine. 

She might have prevented her light from dulling any further, but now her fragile mind was cracking.   
The red's and that freelancer turned up just in time for the first time in forever everyone had something to be happy about. They had a chance to wrap this up once and for all, and once it was she had no desire to do anything but sleep and never awake.

The new people thought she was odd but they weren't scared of her like the others and seemed to be of the impression that if Doyle trusted her than she was trust worthy as well. 

Doyle hadn't chanced since his promotion he was still timid and afraid, but would always put his men first. He knew that they needed strong bonds with each other and worked to put people where they fit best. He tried to keep them in positions that wouldn't damage them further than they had been. Since his take to leadership they had gone on the defensive. There was peace within their bases, they were recovering and it showed. They were better now, they were stable and they were happy to certain degree. 

But then Locus did the unthinkable he betrayed them as did the rebels mercenary, Felix. Grey was left hiding as everyone in the base was slaughtered, she felt guilty that she was glad Doyle had left for Armonia that morning. 

Unless they killed him on his way there, but she didn't want to focus on that thought. 

She was teleported with the others and met the other freelancer Carolina, she was so strong, much stronger than she could ever hope to be. This woman was the kind of person she wished she could be. Someone capable of holding it together as they went through hell. 

Carolina injury meant she got the chance to fix her up, the freelancer looked at her with pity in her eyes. Grey didn't want pity but there was something about the way the other looked at her that seemed to reach right into her core. 

Carolina didn't say anything as she left but squeezed her should as she walked past, shaking it in an affectionate manner. The medic was shocked, and confused by the way her spirit seemed to lift if only for a few moments. 

It was enough to keep her going. 

She kept herself together until they had revealed the mercenaries for what they were and told the others that they were alive. 

She began to slip as she worked on saving Tucker and Wash on the way back to Armonia. Carolina took notice as she assisted in the medical treatment. 

Grey was removed from the pelican by Carolina, who pushed her towards the infirmary. The woman sat her on a cot, Grey just stared at everyone and everything with blank eyes. For the first time in what seemed like years her helmet was removed. 

Everything was so bright it hurt her eyes. The wall on the other wall had a mirror, she jumped at the sight of herself. She was pale, there were massive bags under her eyes, her eating habits had left her bonier than she should have been, her hair was a mess, she looked nothing like she remembered. 

She wanted to cry. 

So she did. 

She was done, the walls shattered, everything that had been holding her up collapsed under the pressure and realized it's self in the form of tears. She was a mess her face stained with tear trails, her eyes became red and puffy, she wailed painful, she acted like the child she was. 

Her hurting chest was what brought her back to reality, and the realization that someone was holding onto her. 

Carolina was beside her an arm wrapped around her holding her tight, comforting her, supporting her as the walls fell. 

Grey sniffled and arranged herself into a more comfortable position for both woman, sobbing softly into her shoulder, letting the other pat her hair. 

It must have been hours before Carolina pushed her back careful and walked off to a table to collect something. Grey looked at her hands and saw a pair of scissors, they were held out to show her what they were and the woman moved careful towards her. She took her seat beside her and slowly and carefully cut away to the lower and longer layers of hair, until Grey resembled her old self once more. 

She was shocked at how something as small as a hair cut could leave her with a smile and feeling more like herself in years. 

“The first thing I did after I left the project was cut my hair, it made me feel like myself again. Like I was getting a fresh start.” Carolina spoke softly. “I know what your going through and I'm not going to lie, it's tough. You might never be the person you once were.”

“I know.” Grey hung her head and took a deep breath then jumping to her feet. “Thank you Carolina.”

Carolina stood up and stood in front of the doctor, she towered over the woman small stature. The two stood chest to chest, it was difficult to say who had initiated it but their lips were pressed together. 

It wasn't passionate, it wasn't lust, it was something comforting, a sense of longing that was finally being fulfilled. To know that someone cared and would be there, to have some to support and support them. 

To Grey it was new, she'd never felt something like this before. To busy with study or the war to even think about romance but it was nice. 

It was nice. 

Carolina pulled away first and looked at the smile she was given by Grey, they were both a long way from better. But she had plenty of experience in putting herself back together, she'd given Wash a few tips and now she'd be more than happy to help Grey.   
She didn't want to lose her second chance. 

York would have liked Grey. 

Everyone on Chorus was a long from better or good but the wounds were beginning to heal.

Families were being reunited.

Friends were seeing each other for the first time in years.

Ones thought dead were alive on the other side. 

Each was learning the enemy wasn't so different from themselves. 

A common cause had now united them and hopefully for good. 

Grey was destroyed completely but now she had a chance to rebuild herself, make herself better than before. 

She liked a challenge and she had the people she needed to support her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> So I've never experiences PTSD but I did some reading and tried to match it up correctly and write it in a reasonable way. If there is anything horrible wrong please inform me and I will attempt to fix it. 
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos, if you can.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @sweetlittlemissme


End file.
